That Was Once and Never Again
by Blonde Panther
Summary: Post-FE8. Marisa and Gerik are hired for a type of job they have no experience with, in a location where they have no place. For Marisa, this is a nightmare come true, but she does it anyway; it pays, and a job is a job. Birthday fic for Darth Slaverus.


**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems for purposes of copyright. Not to me. God, I wish.  
 **Characters and Pairings:** Marisa/Gerik, Seth/Eirika, Rennac/L'Arachel, Tethys.  
 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Happy new year to everyone, and happy birthday to my boyfriend Darth Slaverus. Coming up with something this year was a complete and total nightmare, and I'm not sure about the execution and characterization since most of these are characters I never write, but I hope you like it anyway._

* * *

 _That Was Once and Never Again_

Entranced by the long, silken strands of lilac hair swirling behind her, the recruit was just a second too slow as the sun-kissed beauty spun on the ball of her foot, the desert sun glittering off the blade of her practice sword as it shot out towards him and got him square in the face. He stumbled back, more in shock than in pain –the training swords were blunted for this very reason- and fell onto his rear, dropping his own sword.

Marisa sighed, jabbing her weapon into the ground next to her. "Work on that," she said curtly, turning around to walk away. As she took a few steps, though, the recruit behind her called out.

"Work on what? You didn't specify, miss!"

She shut her eyes in frustration. Marisa wasn't good at this- she was happy to train with the other mercenaries under Gerik's command, either newcomers or veterans, but she would never understand why he had felt it was a good idea to make her an instructor. Didn't he know talking to people was one of the things she hated most? Still, he had asked her to at least try and be more sociable towards the others, so she looked over her shoulder. "Your stance," she said, "and your grip. Look at the others."

"Y-yes! Thank you, miss!" she turned back and continued to walk towards the large tent not far from the sparring area, listening with one ear as the recruit gathered the practice swords and took off in the opposite direction.

As she approached the tent though, its inhabitant and owner just stepped out of it. The green-haired man, broad-shouldered and tall, looked around until his gaze stopped on Marisa. That told her enough. "Looking for me, Chief?" she asked as he approached her.

"Yes, actually." He turned, beckoning her inside. "I got a new mission in and I need your help for it." Good. It would get her out of the camp and give her an opportunity to use real swords again. As much as she didn't mind the practice swords, the recruits weren't at a level where she could improve much by fighting them. Bandits, demon remnants, or something of that nature would bring her just that little bit closer to her father, though.

When Gerik briefed her on the mission, however, she was incredulous. "You want me to go undercover at Rausten Court to protect Princess L'Arachel?"

"You wouldn't go alone, but yes. That's what it comes down to." He had a hand on his hip, rummaging through the papers on his table with the other. "The request came from someone in the princess's inner circle. He signs as R. and says he'll meet us with details when we arrive at the palace."

"You're going too, then."

"Well, yeah. R. specifically asks for me." He shook his head. "Still, a peasant would stand out at a noble's party and I kind of have a scar splitting my face in half. I'd have a hard time passing myself off as a nobleman, so I'll be attending as your bodyguard."

"Prince Ephraim had scars," Marisa said, but she shook her head and got to the point. "Chief, taking me is a bad idea. I would blow our cover immediately."

"I'm not so sure about that," Gerik said, grinning. "One of our girls can get you into the right dress, and you're beautiful. You'll fit right in."

"I can't socialize with nobles," she said. "You should take Tethys. She'll make a good noblewoman."

"Perhaps, but Tethys can't take care of herself should things go south." He sat down, snatching an apple from the nearby bowl and digging his teeth into it. "I'm taking you with me and that's final. Consider it an order."

"Yes, Chief." There was no arguing with Gerik once he'd made up his mind.

Rausten Court was no unknown territory to Marisa, but when she was shown inside by a soldier in glittering armour, she needed a moment to regain her mental balance. For someone who was accustomed to sleeping in tents or small inns, the palace was uncomfortably huge and lavishly decorated. "My lady," the soldier said, "Where shall we send your attendants?"

Right. Marisa suppressed an uncomfortable gulp when she realized that as Lady Marice of Jehanna, she would have to do the talking in Rausten. Gerik, posing as her bodyguard in full plate armour and a long cape, hadn't spoken at all since their arrival, other than a single 'Careful, my lady' when she had tripped over her long gown getting out of the carriage. Tethys was cheerful and interested as always, but it would be strange for a noblewoman's maidservant to speak up for her lady. "My quarters," she finally said. "Gerard wants to make sure it's safe."

The soldier turned to Gerik, who nodded seriously. He'd taken on the persona of an overprotective guardian sent by her father to both protect her and keep suitors away from her. If the soldier had any inhibitions about leaving the man with the two women, he hid it well, perhaps unnerved by Gerik's silent and serious demeanour, and led them towards their guest room. "You will be summoned for dinner soon," he said, bowing as he left.

"Thank you," Marisa said, but she heaved a sigh of relief when he finally left. "…stop grinning," she said to Tethys.

"At least we're inside," Gerik said. "R. will probably meet us here after dinner. Too dangerous to have these kinds of conversations when we could be fetched any second."

"Can I take this flower out of my hair?" Marisa asked, scratching under it. Tethys had dressed her up like the noblewoman she was supposed to be, in a long black gown with a thin red shawl. Those were bad enough, rendering her unable to move as she normally would, and she had already tripped once on the high heels she wore under the gown. But the way her hair had been braided down her back, very tightly pinned to the skin of her head and fastened with an enormous black desert flower, topped it off.

Gerik nodded to Tethys, who immediately walked over to Marisa. "You just had to be all poofed up for the welcoming committee and for the party tomorrow evening," she said. "We've brought something more normal you can wear during dinner." She started pulling pins out of Marisa's hair and combing it, this time braiding it much more loosely and without the flower.

"Look, I know you don't like this," Gerik said, politely turning around when Tethys pushed Marisa behind the changing screen in the room, "But you're doing great thus far. I don't even think the princess recognized any of us."

"Without disrespect to Lady L'Arachel, I'd be surprised if she remembered the names of her own knights, let alone someone else's." Gerik's head whipped up and Marisa reached for a sword that wasn't on her hip when the only semi-familiar voice rang out. Gerik did draw his sword, but lowered it quickly when he recognized the tall, lanky man with long brown hair in the doorway. "I'm Rennac," he said, an unnecessary introduction. He was one of Princess L'Arachel's closest servants, and had been since the War of the Stones; he always seemed to be terribly annoyed by her, but Marisa was surprised to see him here. Contracts never lasted this long.

"Gerard," Gerik said curtly. "Teresa and I have served Lady Marice for years." Rennac nodded, a meaningful look in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Tell your lady to make haste. The Princess is intrigued and wants to sit next to her during dinner." He shook his head. "Best not be late. For her sake and mine." With that, he spun around and left.

Marisa walked out from behind the screen, now dressed in a simpler dress and without her shawl. It was less restrictive, true, but she was still less than comfortable. "Should we go right now?"

"Actually," Gerik said, "Tethys and I will be eating with the other nobles' servants." Marisa's eyes widened at the news. She was to eat with these nobles on her own?! "Attendants never dine with the nobility, Marisa. You knew that."

"I thought General Seth-"

"General Seth was one act away from being Princess Eirika's consort," Tethys said, smiling. Even with a war consuming much of their time and energy, the thinly-veiled affection between the princess of Renais and her knight protector had been obvious and news of their wedding had reached Jehanna not long ago. "Their case was an exception, not the norm. But I think I saw Princess Eirika during the reception; she might keep Princess L'Arachel busy enough that you'll survive dinner."

"Let's hope so."

When Princess Eirika arrived at the dining hall and saw Marisa, the mercenary could have sworn she saw surprise and recognition on the princess's face. However, she sat down on L'Arachel's left –Marisa sitting to her right- and gave no sign of recognition. The red-haired man with her studied Marisa a few seconds longer but ended up deciding that if his wife didn't press the issue, neither would he, and sat down next to her.

The first few courses of the meal were doable enough, with L'Arachel's attention resting on Eirika and her newlywed husband –apparently Gerik and Tethys were right and General Seth's elevation into the nobility was almost unprecedented- but as soon as the main course was served, her attention shifted to Marisa. "So… Marice, right?" she asked, to which Marisa nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Are you new to the nobility?"

Marisa swallowed, uncomfortable under close scrutiny. Still, she stuck to the story Gerik had devised. "No, my parents have always been nobles of Jehanna. My father never let me leave the manor. He's afraid I will fall in with the wrong crowd or end up seduced by a poor match." She looked at General Seth nervously, but he seemed to pay her no heed. Princess L'Arachel did notice, though.

"Ah, yes," she said, nodding sagely. "That does make sense, I hear similar things from girls all the time. Is that why you have a big, strong man around to protect you?"

Marisa hesitated. "You mean Gerard?"

"Gerard!" L'Arachel exclaimed as if she had remembered something important. "Of course, that was his name. He seems quite devoted to your safety." She giggled, leaning closer. "Say, you don't think he would be interested in something…" a very light, almost unnoticeable nod towards General Seth, "… _more,_ do you?"

Normally, Marisa wouldn't have caught on to her meaning, but she and Gerik had a history. She turned red as she remembered- her utterly and completely failed attempt at being sociable and Gerik's understandably amused reaction to it. She had too embarrassed to accept his apology and to try again, so Gerik had attempted to make up for his insensitivity in… other ways. He had been broke, but had himself to offer- something he hadn't thought of until Marisa had clumsily suggested it.

But Marisa was a complete and utter failure at anything that wasn't fighting. Judging from how hard and uncomfortable it had been, lovemaking was no exception to that. After they'd finished, she had waited for Gerik to fall asleep before getting out of his bed, gathering her things and fleeing to her own room in embarrassment. He hadn't brought it up since, and Marisa would die before she said a word about it.

She shook her head, finally finding words. "N-no. We're not like that." L'Arachel kept grinning, so Marisa repeated what Tethys had said. "…Lord Seth is the exception, not the norm." Two seats down, Eirika choked in surprise and hurried to drink a gulp of wine to wash down the food that had gotten stuck in her throat. L'Arachel immediately turned to her friend, fussing over her and making sure she was perfectly alright, and didn't bring up the topic a second time throughout the evening. Still, Marisa felt drained when she let someone escort her back to her room. Once inside, she didn't wait for Tethys to close the door, instead falling backwards on the bed.

She tugged her braid loose, letting her hair fall as it did, and looked at the other two. They had already been back when she'd arrived, undoubtedly because L'Arachel had kept her for much longer than she'd anticipated. Or been willing to put up with. Thank god for Princess Eirika and her endless patience. "When will R. be here with further instructions?" she asked, itching to pick up the sword Gerik had brought for her and use it. Words were definitely not her weapon of choice.

"Any second now, I'd wager," Gerik said, "Considering the nobles are done. Inner circle, remember? He probably had other responsibilities up until now." Marisa turned her head towards Tethys, who was busy brushing her long red hair in the mirror of the vanity table. She still stood by what she had said. Tethys would have made a far better noblewoman than she, and would probably have had a witty response to L'Arachel's question. Instead, Gerik had brought her with them so she could help Marisa dress, and they had known that they would be eating together. Without Marisa.

She suppressed a sigh. Of course. There was no reason why Gerik should hold off any sort of involvement with another woman just because Marisa was terrible in bed. At least he and Tethys were a good match, she supposed. Fortunately, she couldn't get caught up in her thoughts, because there was a knock on the door. Gerik checked, finally stepping back to let Rennac enter.

"Good," the rogue said, "You're all here and we have plenty of time. I won't be missed for a while yet." He sat himself down on the bed next to Marisa, crossing his legs and looking at the three one by one. "Gerik, Tethys, and Marisa, if memory serves."

"You must be R," Marisa said, finally realizing. He nodded. "Why did you hire us?"

Rennac looked at her but didn't address her slowness on the uptake. "As my message to Gerik said," he said, turning to all three of them, "I suspect someone in the company of either Princess L'Arachel or Pontifex Mansel is plotting something. A coup, an assassination, or something else. The details are vague, but tomorrow night would be a prime opportunity."

"Aren't the halls of the palace heavily guarded during these events?" Gerik asked. "I mean, that would make sense."

"They are," Rennac admitted, crossing his arms. "And that should be sufficient if the threat came from outside. But I'm afraid their enemy will have snuck someone in through other channels. I mean, it took zero effort on my part to sneak in three mercenaries who aren't even good at stealth operations. So it can't be that hard to, say, pass an assassin off as an attendant." He drummed his fingers on his arm, seemingly lost in thought.

"I think you're exaggerating," Gerik said. "Princess L'Arachel is guarded at all hours, right? Same with the Pontifex."

Rennac was silent for a few seconds, but then frowned, irritated. "Yeah, well, your opinion is irrelevant. I'll pay you after tomorrow night, so until then you're staying here and doing your job."

"Don't worry," Tethys said, "We will. For what it's worth, it's pretty sweet of you to worry about the princess so much." Rennac flushed at the words, but didn't deny or confirm anything.

"I'll be in the room with a few of the soldiers," Gerik said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "Marisa and I will both be armed." She perked at that. Good, at least she'd have a weapon on her. That would help her feel a little more comfortable. "Let one of us know if anything out of the ordinary happens and you need help."

"Is there a suspect?" The room was silent when Marisa spoke up. Rennac looked at her. "We could find him and stop him before the party."

"It's not that simple when you're dealing with nobles." Rennac said, lowering his head in frustration, "I have at least three suspects, but all of them are prissy nobles and if we so much as point at them we'll be the ones stopped. Lady L'Arachel wouldn't be pleased." Marisa suppressed her own frustration. Next time Gerik had a mission like this, she would be conveniently on the other side of Jehanna. It was much more of a headache than it was worth.

"Anyway," the rogue continued, "I'll be present as well, along with Dozla, as her personal guards. We'll keep an eye on her, so you guys have to keep an eye on the other guests. If anyone looks like they're not usually around folks like this… much like yourselves… get in touch." The mercenaries nodded, in unison, and Rennac stood up. "Don't make me regret hiring you guys. Not the easiest thing in the world doing this without Lady L'Arachel noticing."

So… Rennac was doing this not on L'Arachel's orders, nor even with her approval. As the others slept that night, Marisa was still wondering over that. Tethys had said he was 'sweet' for worrying about the princess. Honestly, Marisa agreed with Gerik- Rennac was paranoid. If she weren't paid, she would have been on the road home by now. Then again… it was just one more night, the bed was comfortable, and Gerik would be terribly disappointed if she left now. She sighed, turning on her right side to sleep.

Whenever she spent time in the company of Princess L'Arachel the following day, at least she had a sword at her side, hidden under her uncomfortably huge skirt. She was on edge, but not quite as much as she had been the day before. After all, undercover or not, this was what she was good at- focusing on an assignment and making sure it was carried out to the best of her ability. And when it came to swords, no one was better than her, except perhaps her father.

She'd kept a close eye on Princess L'Arachel, across the dance hall, as she danced with Rennac. It was quite a sight to see; she hadn't expected the two to look so natural together, nor the man she'd gotten to know as a rogue and a never-do-well to actually be versed in ballroom dancing. …of course, how the princess worked her dress in such a way that she didn't trip over the accursed thing while it was even more elaborate and exaggerated than Marisa's own, the mercenary would never understand. She noticed she wasn't the only one staring- most of the nobles present were looking at the pair, whispering among themselves.

"Well, then," she heard, and she turned her head when someone set down a glass on the table she was leaning on. "Looks like the lovely princess of Rausten is fully spoken for." Marisa studied the man who had spoken, taking advantage of the fact he was not looking at her, still observing L'Arachel and Rennac. He was well-dressed, and carried himself with a certain dignity, but also a haughty air that radiated 'I am better than you.' He finally turned to her, dark eyes taking her in. "Not so much for the mysterious newcomer from Jehanna though, unless I am mistaken?"

It took her a few seconds to realize he was talking about her. By the time she did, however, she found her hand taken by him. "I've not seen you dance all night, Lady Marice."

"I don't dance," she simply said, believing she owed him no further explanation.

Sadly, he pressed. "But you must, my lady. I've been observing you. The way you move is so elegant, 't is almost a crime for you to stay off the dance floor and rob us all of the beautiful sight." When she didn't budge, he chuckled. "Unless you don't know how to dance?" Suddenly, Marisa's head raced. Was that strange? Damn, of course. All nobles knew how to dance. Hell, even General –now Lord- Seth was dancing with Princess Eirika and making it look easy. Damn, _why_ had Gerik not put Tethys in this position?!

The man saved her from her thoughts, but stepped uncomfortably into her personal space, struck an arm around her, and brought his face so close to her she could feel his breath, uncomfortably warm on her skin. "Such a shame your lord father insists on sheltering you to the point where he would not allow you to learn to dance," he said. "Does he think it will chase the suitors away from his radiant daughter?"

"I wasn't supposed to attend," she said, finally giving him a push. Under any other circumstances she would have broken his shin and shattered a few of his ribs, but she couldn't afford to draw attention to her. Not that the temptation wasn't incredibly strong. "I don't want to go into details. Leave me alone." With that, she walked away from the table, looking around the hall once more for Gerik and Rennac. Rennac was still dancing with L'Arachel, now speeding up to the point where her skirts whirled around them, but Gerik was at his post, glaring at the man with the venom in his eyes Marisa had to keep hidden for the sake of their cover.

It appeared the song had ended, and the dancing couples changed partners; after a characteristically flamboyant curtsey, L'Arachel turned away from Rennac and instead took Lord Seth's hands –to the redhead's apparent bemusement and Princess Eirika's great entertainment- and Rennac spun on the ball of his foot, snatching Marisa's hand in his as she passed. "Just follow," he said, bowing, "We need to talk." He pulled her out of earshot of the other dancers before inquiring to her findings thus far. Marisa told him, in the same hushed voice, that there had been nothing out of the ordinary that she could tell, but when she passed by the man from before and stiffened, she saw her partner's eyes darting over to him for a second… and lingering there.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I don't know that guy," Rennac said. "I've seen everyone here at least once before, but he's new." That was… certainly more than a little suspicious. "Keep an eye on him," the rogue continued as he spun her around, "I'll go report to your man and we'll act as soon as we can get him alone."

"Understood."

They finished their dance and Marisa was released to rest and keep an eye on L'Arachel and their target, while Rennac discreetly vanished into the crowd to find Gerik. It felt like hours passed and nothing happened, even after Rennac returned to the princess's side, but when the situation did change… it brought back terrible memories of Jehanna Hall.

It started with the faint scent of smoke. Then, someone –Marisa didn't recognize the voice- shouted 'Fire,' and then all hell broke out. Lords gathered their ladies as the fire spread far more quickly than was natural, knights ushering people out the doors… Marisa was no exception, but the moment she smelt the fire and saw the chaos, she remembered the day Jehanna Hall had gone up in flames.

Just before that fire had broken out, they had found Queen Ismaire's lifeless body. She hadn't seen it herself, she had just heard from Gerik, who had heard from Prince Joshua, himself. The enemy had used the chaos of the battle in the palace to his advantage to kill the Queen and make off with the Sacred Stone while everyone else was distracted.

Distracted.

The princess.

With a sudden jerk, Marisa tugged her arm free from the knight's grip and spun around, elbowing her way back into the hall through the stream of people. The noise, the smell of fire and perfume, the almost infectious panic of her temporary peers… it almost became too much for her senses, until she saw something near the back of the hall. Their target had Princess L'Arachel by the hand and led her out a back door, knights and soldiers too distracted and occupied to see.

Scooping up her skirts, Marisa hurried after them, catching the door before it could fall into its lock and shutting it behind her as quietly as she could as she followed them.

As she came a little closer –though not close enough that her presence was noticed- she saw that the man had a small, sharp knife in one hand, which he discreetly held against the princess's waist. Undoubtedly the way he had kept her quiet and gotten her to follow him. Cursing the situation, and mostly her dress, mentally, Marisa slipped out of her heels and pulled her skirt up enough that she could remove her weapon from her leg and silently draw it from its sheath. If she got the drop on this guy, she could possibly cut him down before he would dig the knife into L'Arachel.

"That's far enough," he said, pulling them both to a stop, and for a moment, Marisa feared she'd given away her presence. However, he turned the princess around. "Here will do." She looked around. Close to a window. If this man was a practiced assassin, then that was his getaway route. Pretty clever. He would have made for a decent addition to Gerik's team… if he hadn't let his guard down so tremendously.

Princess L'Arachel's eyes widened when Marisa leapt forward, sword raised, and struck the man across the shoulder with it. His arm jolted out, an involuntary response to the pain and the shock, and he let go of the princess with the other. Fortunately, she had the sense to scuttle away, giving Marisa room to fight her would-have-been killer. "Not every day you see a lady with a sword," he said, smirking. "Then again, you're not a lady at all, are you?"

"No," was Marisa's only reply. She spun, catching his dagger on her blade and pushing it back, giving him a second to parry her own follow-up strike. Unfortunately for him, she was more versatile with her blade than he was, and she twisted the blades in such a way that his wrist twisted along, finally flicking the dagger away and sending it flying across the hallway to end far out of his reach. Marisa didn't hesitate, gloat, speak, or even give her enemy a chance to say any final words. She simply lunged at him, driving her sword through his throat, and let him fall to the floor.

Then, she snatched the still-amazed princess by the wrist and started dragging her out of the palace, before the flames would catch up to them.

Outside, both Gerik and Rennac were pacing, trying to get back inside the halls, and generally looking like caged animals. Rennac's sharp ears were first to hear the two pairs of mismatched footfalls and when he turned in their direction, his trained eyes were the first to spot the mercenary and her charge. He smacked Gerik on the shoulder to get his attention, pointing at the two, and then wasted no time making his way over to them.

The moment L'Arachel caught sight of him, she broke free from Marisa's grip and threw herself at him. "Oh, Rennac!" she cried, "It was horrible!"

Marisa, in the meantime, could only sigh, glad to be done with this job. She looked up at Gerik, waiting for him to assess her performance, only to be surprised when he struck his arms around her and crushed her in a tight hug. "What were you thinking?" he asked.

"To protect the charge," Marisa simply said. "Where is Tethys?"

"She's fine. The servants were evacuated without incident, and she isn't the one who went back into a burning hall dressed in layers of fabric that would turn into a cage of fire if anything went wrong."

Marisa had to admit she hadn't thought of that. But she didn't. "She also isn't the one who had a sword on her and who saw the target sneak out with the princess."

Gerik didn't let go of her, but did laugh. "You're right, you're right. Well… job well done, I guess. Let's see if we can find a place to rest while these people clean up."

A day later, with the worst of the chaos out of the way and the palace safe –the fire had been much smaller than the one at Jehanna Hall, it had clearly been nothing more than a distraction after all- the three reported back to Rennac- and L'Arachel.

"Had I known someone would be so vile as to send that sort of gentleman to claim my neck," the princess said, apparently fully recovered from the shock, "I would never have settled for the bare minimum of guards!" Rennac rolled his eyes at her words, but seemed decidedly more at ease than he had the days before. Gerik, in his usual clothes like the other two, only grinned. "I know I often say this, but I owe my life to you!" She stepped forward, grabbing Marisa's hand and making her jolt in surprise. "I insist that you become my honorary royal guard!"

Rennac coughed into his hand before anyone else could speak. "Princess," he said, "With respect… they're sellswords. I think they'd rather just take your money for their service and be on their way home."

"Why I never!" if anything, the princess seemed genuinely offended. Still, she settled for paying the three mercenaries a generous sum, although she insisted the offer remained open.

As they left, Tethys stretched and put a hand on her face, pensive. "I do wonder why someone tried to kill the princess. Or, well, have her killed, I guess."

"Could be anything," Gerik said. "Politics. Religion. A personal problem. The only person who knows is the person who hired that guy." Marisa shrugged. She didn't care. It was of no consequence, anyway: they were mercenaries. They did their job, and once it was done, they collected and returned home. They didn't ask about the underlying issues or the reasons for their job. They just did it. She was just glad to be out of that dress. "Hey, Tethys." Gerik's voice woke her from her thoughts. "Saleh should be somewhere in town with horses we can use to get back home. Why don't you go see if you can find him? We'll be right behind you."

Tethys, who was far more perceptive than Marisa, smiled and winked. "Sure thing, Chief." With that, she bounced off, leaving Gerik and Marisa alone.

Gerik wasted no time getting to the point. "So, you know… when I realized you'd gone back inside I was definitely scared for a moment there."

"I was fine. I had a sword."

"Well, yeah." He looked away, a little embarrassed. "But I didn't think of that. I just thought about you on your own in a dress you could barely move in against a practiced assassin, and all of that in the middle of a fire about which we didn't know if it could catch up to you or not."

"I was fine," she insisted. "…still, thank you for worrying."

Gerik sighed. "It was more than just worry, I think. I panicked. I was ready to pound one of the guards to get myself back inside after you."

"That's not like you."

"Consider it something you do to me." He laughed, pulling on her bangs. "…hey, Marisa?"

"Yes?"

"…would you wanna, I don't know, give us another go?"

She stopped walking, looking at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," he said, a little red in the face, "Last time we tried… you know… you ended up leaving early. I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear. I'm sorry."

"You didn't hurt me." Marisa continued walking, Gerik following behind her, confused.

"Then why did you leave? I was so confused to wake up with you gone from the bed."

"I'm a warrior," she said. "Not a lover. Or a wife." She shook her head. "The only swordplay I'm good at involves metal on metal. You would know that better than anyone."

"Come on, it wasn't THAT bad." He patted her shoulder. "First times are always awkward. And when you were in there, well… I thought what a shame it would be if we never got a chance to see if a second time went better."

"I wouldn't mind." She shrugged. "What if it doesn't?"

"They do say third time's the charm."

Sighing, Marisa shook her head. She saw Tethys approaching on the path, apparently either having found Saleh or having decided the two had had enough time to sort themselves out. The Desert Tiger didn't let go once he sank his fangs into something. Apparently, that applied to women as well as to jobs. She was not getting rid of him so easily.

Not that she minded.


End file.
